


Coffee At Four

by BigGhost



Series: conkus is the name of this ship now [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigGhost/pseuds/BigGhost
Summary: tumblr prompt: an au where Connor is a cop and Markus is an artist that gets a painting stolen from a gallery? And Connor is the one that returns it to him once they find the culprit





	Coffee At Four

Admittedly, Markus supposed his artist debut could have gone worse.

The gallery could have burst into flames, taking all of his pieces with it.  The zombie outbreak could have begun at the moment everyone came in to admire his work.  A critic could have ridiculed him for the shade of green he used, and thus ended his art career before it began.

But no.  Instead, one of his paintings was stolen.  Definitely,  _ absolutely  _ not the worst thing that could have happened.

...Right.

Markus kept telling himself that with every hour that passed.  The painting that had been stolen had been one of his major pieces in the show, and had taken nearly three weeks to complete.  He’d poured his heart into that piece: a piece to embody hope and compassion. Ironically, compassion was lost on the thief. The asshole had cut it right out of its frame.  
  
No one had seen the person make off with the painting, but the security cameras had told the police that the painting had been stolen while the displays were being set up.  Markus lamented that his prized piece had not even seen the light of the showroom before it was spirited away.

Markus suspected the thief had stolen the painting in hopes of selling it for some quick cash.  Drugs, maybe. He wasn’t particularly famous, not like his mentor, but his name was climbing amongst locals.  He’d sold many a handful of paintings to local shops, collectors, and libraries. A couple local schools had even commissioned murals from him.  The show was meant to be his doorway into the world outside of his little corner of Detroit.

Of course it had to go wrong.

He’d been beside himself in the gallery, sitting with his head in his hands in front of the giant empty spotlight where the painting would have been hung.  They’d told him to go home, that the gallery had postponed the showing until the culprit was found. It’d look bad to delay the gallery, but not as bad as having a giant empty spot would.

It took about a day and a half to track down the painting.  Markus’ prediction was right. It’d been sold in attempt to get some cash for red ice.  The police tracked it down to some shady teenager trying to sell it at a local pawn shop.  Thankfully, the owner of the shop had recognized the little signature stamp that Markus left on each of his paintings, and had given his friend on the force a call to promptly report the item.

They were going to bring the painting back to Markus’ house so that he could make sure nothing was off about it, and any fixes he had to make could be made in his studio at home.

_ Ding dong. _

Ah, there they were.

Markus quickly put down his cutting knife and tomatoes, washed his hands, and dashed to the front door with a little towel on hand.  He threw the towel over his shoulder as he opened the door. “Hey, thanks for bringing back… my…”

If his jaw weren’t attached to him, it would have fallen to the floor.  The man turned around to meet him as he opened the door, and by God, he was gorgeous.  Long legs, gentle features with big round eyes and a slightly curved mouth, and his hair done in a perfect sweep.  His dark uniform hugged him in a way that let Markus admire how toned his arms were. Little freckles and moles dotted his face, and Markus wondered if he had them anywhere else.

Markus’ lips opened and closed like a little goldfish.  “My… gay…”

The officer’s head tilted to the side as his brows furrowed in confusion.  “I’m sorry?”

Markus felt his face burn in humiliation.  “Uh, I said… I like your… spray! Your uh… cologne?  It’s... it smells. Like cologne.”

Amazing.

Maybe, if he was lucky, the cop would arrest him right now and kill him in the woods behind the house.

The silence hung between them, and the passage of time was only told by the chirping birds in their little display cage behind Markus.  Yep. Cologne that smells like cologne. Exemplary, Markus.

The policeman’s face suddenly broke into a giant smile, complete with an absolute chime of a laugh and bright eyes staring back at Markus.  “Well, thank you. For noticing my ‘spray.’” He handed Markus the painting. “I hope this is still in presentable condition, I did my best to handle it carefully.”  
  
Markus rolled the painting open and examined it.  Other than the fact that he would have to reframe it, it was as he’d left it.  He smiled, thankful to have it back undamaged. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

He rolled it back up and looked at the office on his porch.  The man seemed proud of himself, having returned the precious painting without scuffing it somehow.  “I’d like to thank you, would you like to come in for some coffee?”

The officer smiled again, looked at the floor, then back to Markus.  “I have to get back to the station and check on our gallery thief.”

Markus felt his stomach knot up.  Of course. What was he thinking, the man still had a job to go do.  Stupid stupid stupid! He hoped his face didn’t show his disappointment.  “Oh, right. Sorry, that was stupid of me. Thank you for bringing this back to me, Officer.  Truly.” He smiled at the man. “It means a lot to me.”

The officer nodded his head.  Markus bid him a quiet goodbye and hurried to shut the door.  The sooner he could wallow in embarrassment, the better.

“Wait!” the man called, hand suddenly pushing gently on the door.  Markus slowly opened the door again. Hadn’t he faced enough humiliation in front of this beautiful man already?  The officer brought his hand off the door as Markus revealed himself again. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking around as though he were trying to pick his words carefully.  More carefully than Markus had, anyway.

Finally, he shrugged, hands out and face hopeful.  “I get off around four. Can I… swing by for my thank you coffee then?”

Markus gaped.  Uh… huh. Four.  Four was a good time right?  Good for coffee time with a pretty officer?  Markus blinked, nodding slowly. “Y-Yeah! Four!  Four sounds… four sounds great!”

The officer chuckled at that.  He nodded his head at Markus, “Four then,” and made his way back to his patrol car.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Markus called to him.   
“Connor!” he called as he stepped into his car.

Connor.  Connor. Connor.  Four, with Connor, for thank you coffee.  Markus mulled over the idea in his head, leaning against the door as he closed it.  Four o’clock coffee with the hot officer Connor.

He could totally do this.

He rolled open the painting again to examine it.  He hated and loved how the smell of Connor’s cologne wafted off of the painting from being in the man’s car on the ride over.

He sighed, and mentally kicked his stupid, gay self.  Maybe, just maybe, Connor would let him live this down.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaahhh im so sleepy ٩(ˊ〇ˋ*)و
> 
> send me your own prompt at sugarbath, and join our discord: Jericho to hang out with us!
> 
>  
> 
> **EDIT: yes, i know 3 weeks for a painter is not a lot! i don't dabble in paints much as an artist, so the time frame was a bit lost on me! ╮(￣ω￣;)╭


End file.
